


A Christmas Gift

by notbloodylikely



Category: British Royal Family, British Royalty RPF, The Crown (TV)
Genre: Affairs, Christmas Eve, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Gift Giving, Hurt/Comfort, I continue to torture myself with this ship, Mistletoe, More material for season 5/6 of The Crown, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28169361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notbloodylikely/pseuds/notbloodylikely
Summary: Anne comes to give Tim a gift on Christmas Eve that brings back memories, and later brings feelings to the fore. Set in 1987, and inspired by this interview of his that I listened to recently: https://youtu.be/VHx9aoGlUsA
Relationships: Anne | Princess Royal (1950 - Present)/Timothy Laurence (1955 - Present)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 12





	A Christmas Gift

Christmas Eve was coming to an end at Sandringham House. The food had gone down a treat, the children had long since gone to bed - though most were still too excited to sleep - and as the clock struck 11pm, some members of the family were still up, drinking, reflecting on the year that was now coming to an end and singing Christmas carols together in front of the television.

Timothy Laurence stifled a yawn as the little clock on his desk chimed 11 times. Having retired from the festive scene downstairs, he was in his office getting ahead of some of the paperwork for the Queen’s schedule in January. This was his second Christmas spent with the Royals, and while he wouldn’t be seeing his own family for another few days, he didn’t mind spending the main event away from them. It wasn’t as if he had a wife and children of his own to spend it with after all.

Getting lost in thought now, he thought he had imagined someone knocking on the door of his office until they knocked again twice as loudly.

“Come in?” He called out, surprised that someone wanted to see him at this hour. He was even more surprised when Princess Anne stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. She was still dressed for the traditional black tie dinner the family had this evening, in a long, lilac gown that managed to show off her figure perfectly without revealing any skin.

“Are you _still_ working?” She said as he got to his feet.

“Just finishing off a few last minute things, your Royal Highness.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve! You should be all tucked up in bed, waiting for Santa Claus to arrive. He won’t come until you’re asleep, you know.” He shook his head at her as she giggled.

“You haven’t gone to bed yet yourself, Ma’am.”

“Well I’m on the naughty list you see, so it doesn’t matter.” She smirked and perched herself on the side of his desk as he sat down again.

They had become very close over the last year of his term as equerry to the Queen. Almost from the start, a natural friendship seemed to blossom out of polite conversation and had grown to the point where they now felt completely at ease in each other’s company. Anne had spent many an evening with the Naval officer talking about the most personal things that she would never dream of sharing with anyone else, and felt now that she could trust him implicitly. Tim, though never getting above his station and always mindful of her status, now regarded the princess as a true friend with whom he could talk about practically anything. Indeed, both had had thoughts about the other that one didn’t usually have about friends, but neither had ever acted on them. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Tim asked.

Smirking, Anne took one hand from behind her back and gently placed a small box, neatly covered in wrapping paper and tied with a little red bow, onto the desk in front of him. Confused, he looked from the box to her and back down again.

“Well open it!” Anne said. “I know most people wait until Christmas morning, but it’s traditional here to exchange gifts on Christmas Eve, and I _am_ a great believer in tradition.”

“No, I just- Ma’am, you really shouldn’t have.” She just shrugged.

“It’s just something small.. Go on, open it.”

With great care, he untied the red ribbon and without tearing the paper, neatly pulled at where the tape held it in place so that it came apart easily. The small, shiny black box gleamed back at him. He looked at Anne again, as if for permission, and upon seeing her smile and nod, he pushed the top up and opened it.

What he saw rendered him speechless. There in the box sat a pair of beautiful gold cufflinks. They were quite small, no more than 12mm, with a round front face. They were obviously very expensive, but this wasn’t what had shocked him. It was what was on the front face of them that had taken him by surprise, and transported him back to a conversation they had shared a month earlier.

_It was the day before Remembrance Sunday, and he had gone to see the Princess in her office to ask her about her most recent trip with the Save the Children Fund which was to take place the following week. Inevitably, while discussing plans, the topic changed to the service that would be held tomorrow at The Cenotaph.  
_

_“What do you think of Commander, during the two minute silence?” She had asked him. He hadn’t been expecting the question, and he already knew the answer.  
_

_“Well, I was the Navigating Officer in the destroyer HMS Sheffield for two years, Ma’am. I left a few months before the Falklands War broke out, and she was sent there.. A month later, I was patrolling in Northern Ireland when I heard on the radio that she had been hit.. and subsequently, had sunk..” He really hadn’t planned on telling her this. It wasn’t something he had spoken about to anyone else since it had happened, but he found he couldn’t stop.  
_

_“20 men, that I had served with as part of my crew, and that I considered friends, were killed.. They only recovered one body..” He could feel himself getting emotional and forced himself to keep it together, only to feel her hand on his. Looking up, her face was the picture of sympathy, her blue eyes gazing into his as she gently ran her thumb over his hand._

_“I’m so sorry.. That must’ve been so awful for you.”_

_Tim nodded. “It was quite a shock Ma’am, yes. Terrible for their families. They were all very young.. I often wish I had something from the ship from before I left, you know. Just as a little token of remembrance, to remember those lost.”_

_Anne gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Regardless of that, you’ll be remembering them tomorrow. As will their families, and as will I.”_

But he did have something now. For engraved on the face of the cufflinks was the crest of _HMS Sheffield_ : eight diagonal arrows - four pointing left and four pointing right - crossing over each other on a blue background with ‘SHEFFIELD’ inscribed above them, topped with a Naval crown. As he picked one of the cufflinks up to examine it more closely, Anne spoke softly, seeing that he was noticeably touched by her gift.

“I thought about our conversation afterwards, and felt it was only right that you should have something to remember your time on the ship, and your late friends. You might wear them on Remembrance Sunday next year?”

“Ma’am... I don’t know what to say...” He had been completely taken off guard by the gift, and by the fact that she had taken his words to heart, and taken the time to go out and have these made just for him. When his eyes met hers, they shone with unshed tears and without thinking, she leaned in closer to him, her hand rubbing his back.

“Oh, please don’t get upset... I’ve just had to endure my mother, my aunt and my grandmother - all drunk - singing Ding Dong Merrily on bloody High, if anyone should be upset, I think it ought to be me.” This was enough to make both of them laugh, and for Tim to regain his composure.

“Really, it was extremely thoughtful of you. I truly don’t know how to thank you Ma’am.”

“There’s really no need.”

“Of course there is. I’ve got nothing to give to you-”

“Oh don’t be silly, I didn’t expect anything in return. But alright, if you really want to thank me, you’ll stop working and go and get a rest. As a matter of fact, you can walk me to my own suite, it’s on the way.”

He just chuckled. “I suppose it’s the least I can do, Ma’am.”

The singing could still be heard when they paused to listen outside the main drawing room of the house, causing both of them to giggle as they heard the voices of the Queen Mother and Princess Margaret belting out Joy to the World, while the rest had been reduced to a monotonous grumble. As they reached the end of the corridor, Anne’s suite of rooms were in one direction while Tim’s quarters lay in the other.

“I think I can find my own way from here.” She smiled. “Go and get some sleep, Commander.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you again for the gift, I just wish I could repay you.”

“Think nothing of it...” Looking up at him, her gaze moved to something above his head, and Tim watched as a look of surprise changed to one of mischief. 

Following her gaze, his eyes fell on a large sprig of mistletoe that was hanging from the elaborate archway directly above his head.

“Mistletoe.” She said with an arched brow and a teasing grin. 

“Yes..” Tim felt his cheeks filling with colour as the already small proximity between them seemed to shrink, and the tension in the air became even thicker as her eyes lingered on his.

“I _did_ say I was a great believer in tradition, Commander.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, and after another momentary silence, he nodded.

“As am I, Ma’am.”

Smiling at one another now, Tim leaned down and, ever the gentleman, brushed his lips against her cheek. But as he pulled away, their eyes lingered on one another, and suddenly his heart was beating out of his chest. The next thing he knew, Anne leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

His heart stopped. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe as he processed what was happening. The kiss was slow and tender, and as he began to kiss her back, he felt her soft palm cup his cheek, her thumb lightly tracing his cheekbone as she sighed against his mouth and melted against him. It was simply perfect.

Tim longed to draw her into his arms and kiss her with all the fervour of his long-contained passion, to tell her how he felt about her, how he wanted her desperately and how, unlike her husband, he would do anything to make her happy. But he knew that this wasn’t the right time.

Slowly, as if it pained both of them to do so, they pulled apart, suddenly conscious of the fact that they could be disturbed at any moment. Both catching their breath, the way she was smiling at him now made her look almost shy, and he swore he could see the same conflict he felt behind her blue eyes. The same desire and longing cut short, the same hope that they might finish what they had now started in the near future. 

“Merry Christmas, Commander,” she whispered.

“Merry Christmas, Ma’am,” he replied. And with that, she turned and walked away from him. His eyes never left her as she disappeared down the corridor, and with one last look, she was gone.

The urge he felt to go after her was like nothing he had ever felt before, but instead, he walked the rest of the way to his quarters, the thought of their kiss never leaving his mind until he finally fell asleep. The fire was lit now, and he was sure that with time, it would only burn brighter. 

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, this is a work of fiction. Tim did serve on HMS Sheffield and did leave before it was sent to the Falklands and sunk, but the conversation with Anne and the gift is all my own creation. I just thought it was a sweet idea. No offence intended.


End file.
